


we will not make it (not without you)

by skjei



Series: all the things i'd never say [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Party, brady is so pure, but he's part dumbass, jimmy is the actual best, protect this boy at all costs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skjei/pseuds/skjei
Summary: Jimmy looks Brady up and down real quick, and Brady tries not to breathe too much. Well - like - he breathes, obviously, but –“You clean up nicely, Bray,” Jimmy says, smirk evident on his face. This time, Brady looks down, and Jimmy starts the car, laughing, while Brady tries to hide his blush. His smile grows wide, and Jimmy’s smiling too, when Brady finally looks up.





	we will not make it (not without you)

**Author's Note:**

> part 3 of 'all the things i'd never say'! read the first two parts first, there's a buildup!
> 
> title is from 'we will not make it (not without you)' by twin peaks. it's on my brady and jimmy playlist and it's just so pretty ugh. 
> 
> this one's a little more mature because- well, you'll see.

Brady knows he shouldn’t go to the party Jimmy invites him to, but he really can’t help but say yes. 

It’s kind of funny, like stupid funny, how crazy Brady is for Jimmy. Because this party is being hosted by a _senior_ , and Brady’s only one month away from sixteen. He knows what he’s in for, but when Jimmy ran up to him with his crooked smile and backward hat, Brady’s brain fucking malfunctioned and he didn’t even have time to merely think. 

So all of a sudden it’s Friday night, and Brady is sprawled out on his bed and he’s thinking about how he’s going to be at a party with _Jimmy_ in 24 hours. His eyes close, he bites his lip, and he doesn’t care that he still stinks from hockey practice. Brady mentally wants to kill himself, because this is just Jimmy Vesey asking his best friend Brady Skjei if he wants to go to a party with him. Like, Jimmy doesn’t know. Fuck, does he? He can’t – could he?

Brady tries to block out the overwhelming thoughts out of his head as he lays a cold palm on his stomach, his shirt already ridden up his body. He wonders why he’s like this, why it has to be _Jimmy_ , of all people. Brady hates himself for this, he really fucking does. He stares at his ceiling while fiddling with the waistband of his sweatpants, and fuck, Brady swears he isn’t thinking at all when he slips a hand underneath the elastic. 

Okay, yeah, Brady’s a teenager. He’s gotten himself off a couple times before, and normally, pictures of girls can get him there just fine. So that’s exactly what he thinks of. Brady just wants to be fucking _normal_ , and he knows he really isn’t.

He tries to get himself there, and it works - partly. He’s somewhat close, and it would be stupid just to stop now. Brady has a hand around himself and he’s just _going_. 

And, shit, he thinks of Jimmy. 

Jimmy, in the locker room, damp hair hanging in front of his face. Jimmy, exhausted from practice, sweating through his t-shirt. Jimmy, at the pool on the fourth of July, coming up from underneath the water. 

Brady’s a goner after that. 

He comes right into his sweatpants, ruining them for good. His eyes shut and he bites his bottom lip until it’s bleeding, just so he doesn’t say the one name on his mind. Brady’s hand retreats from his sweats, and doesn’t want to live with himself. 

Brady, with his soiled sweatpants and all, grabs his pillow and cries into it, until his tears are gone and so is he. 

 

-

 

Brady wakes up just before nine the next morning, and he feels so fucking nasty. Swiftly, he climbs out of bed and tries not to run into the bathroom. He withers out of his shirt and pushes his sweatpants to the ground. He turns the faucet in the shower all the way, and he climbs in to face the water. He lets it hit his face and it’s way to fucking hot and it _burns_ , it really does, but Brady can't seem to care. He lets the water run down his body and doesn’t bother with the soap or shampoo, and he turns off the water when his fingers are pruney and his chest is red. 

Later, Brady doesn’t know when, he walks downstairs to find his dad sitting at the table and reading the paper. He sits down, uncomfortably, beside him. Brady’s dad sets the paper down and gets up. Brady’s eyes follow her as she gets a pitcher of cold brew out of the fridge. Brady has a lump is in his throat, he thinks. 

“Try not to sleep so late,” is the only thing his dad says before pouring the coffee into the coffee machine. Brady doesn’t seem to care. 

 

-

 

He doesn’t eat breakfast, which isn’t surprising. He doesn’t think he could really stomach anything. Brady sits on his bed, on his laptop, and watches the newest highlight reels from the NHL website. He could literally watch these things for hours, and he kind of plans to, for right now. But it’s different today: like, he’s paying enough attention to watch Tyler Seguin score a sick shootout goal, but he can’t help but notice Tyler Seguin’s smile after he scores. 

Brady’s gaze lifts from the computer when his phone buzzes from the other side of the room. He slides off his bed with ease to pick up the phone, where he sees a new message from Jimmy. 

_hey bray! I’ll pick u up tonight at 6, all good?_

Brady feels the corners of his mouth turn upward, and it doesn’t cross his mind that it’s really just a text message. He walks over to his bed and falls onto his back, phone in hand. 

_perfect, thanks ves. can’t wait_

Brady immediately regrets sending the message. Like, what the fuck? Who says ‘can’t wait’? Why the hell would he-

 _no problem bray, and me neither :) see ya tonight_

Brady lets out a breath, letting his eyes scan over the screen. He decides to leave it at that, figures he doesn’t want to stress over it any longer. He locks his phone and sets it next to his laptop, which is still showing the highlights but Brady can’t seem to care enough to sit up.  


 

-

 

True to his word, Jimmy shows up at six, and Brady shuts the front door of his house behind him before running over to Jimmy’s car. He gets in, quickly, partly because it’s really fucking cold but also just because Jimmy is in there. When Brady looks over at Jimmy, he's smiling with his mouth closed, and his dimple seems much more noticeable right now. Why that catches Brady's attention, he doesn’t know, but he tries not to act like he notices. Or- whatever.

Jimmy looks Brady up and down real quick, and Brady tries not to breathe too much. Well - like - he breathes, obviously, but –

“You clean up nicely, Bray,” Jimmy says, smirk evident on his face. This time, Brady looks down, and Jimmy starts the car, laughing, while Brady tries to hide his blush. His smile grows wide, and Jimmy’s smiling too, when Brady finally looks up. 

 

-

 

The first thing Brady notes when he walks into this stranger’s house is how it reeks of alcohol, and from then, he knows it’s going to be a long night. 

They walk in, Brady and Jimmy, side by side and Brady feels really fucking small. He doesn’t really know why Jimmy invited him to this. 

Jimmy taps Brady on the shoulder. “Welcome to high school, Bray!” Jimmy laughs the sentence out and Brady laughs with him except for that fact that it’s definitely not a real laugh. 

There’s people, a shit ton a people, crowding around them. Most of them are dancing, and pretty much all of them have a solo cup in their hand. Brady follows Jimmy through the crowd of high schoolers, until they’ve reached a semi calm area. There’s a couple making out in the corner but Brady figures that’s normal. 

“Hey Veser!” Brady hears someone on his right, and before he knows it Jimmy’s walking over there and Brady is left standing there like a discarded floor lamp.

Great, so he’s alone, he’s tired, he’s a sophomore, and now there’s someone throwing up in the corner. 

Brady just let’s his feet take him God knows where and then he’s just standing in front of a table with drinks. There’s a guy standing behind the table, and he’s got his hands in his pockets. Brady looks at the table and then back at the taller guy. He grabs one of the drinks on the table before he can comprehend it and the guy laughs. 

“You think you can handle that?” he snarls, and Brady gulps. He feels so small, he feels like a fucking child. Nonetheless, Brady takes a swig of the drink and he ends up getting it down all in one go. Mystery guy rolls his eyes and walks away, and stupidly, Brady takes another drink off the table because what does he know. 

 

-

 

Brady feels like shit. 

He doesn’t know what time it is, or where the fuck Jimmy is. He’s limping around, drunk and tired, and he feels different. He doesn’t know what he’s been drinking all night, but in fairness, he doesn’t really want to find out. He’s walking around (in the kitchen, he thinks) until he bumps into a guy pretty much twice the size of him, a senior, presumably . The guy turns around - he’s got long blonde hair and huge muscles and Brady looks prepubescent next to him. He walks closer to Brady and Brady wants to cry. He really wants to fucking cry right now. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” the senior bellows, red solo cup in hand. Brady bites his lip to keep it from wobbling but he really doesn’t have any control over himself. Brady takes a few steps back until the guy grabs his arm like a twig. 

“You’re not going anywhere, kid,” is what he says and Brady really needs to know where Jimmy is, _now_. Brady mumbles an innocent “let me go” and that just puts him in deeper shit. He then feels a pain, an excruciating pain down _there_ , and he’s on the ground. Brady can hardly comprehend what’s going on but he just knows that he wants _Jimmy_. 

The senior kneels over him and he lays a hand on top of Brady’s jeans, right on his crotch. Brady feels his dick jump and that’s when tears start to form. He closes his eyes–

“Get the fuck off of him!” is what Brady hears from behind him. The hand is removed and Brady opens his eyes. Jimmy’s there and - oh _fuck_ , Jimmy’s there. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jimmy is _yelling_ , and Brady can barely make out the words. He doesn’t hear a response from the senior and all of a sudden Jimmy’s right in front of him, kneeling to his level. 

“Fuck, Bray, I - here,” Jimmy’s voice is shaky, almost, and he helps Brady to his feet. Brady can barely stand, and his vision is blurry as Jimmy’s guiding him to the door. He blinks and their in the car, and Jimmy’s doing his seatbelt. 

Brady tilts his head toward Jimmy, and shit, the look on Jimmy’s face is too much, and that’s when Brady loses it. He whimpers, almost, and Jimmy’s got a hand on Brady’s knee. 

“Y-you’re good, Bray, we’re almost home,” Jimmy sounds _so_ uncertain, like he can’t even believe what’s going on. And truly, he can’t. 

When Jimmy pulls in front of his house, he practically runs over to the passengers side, where Brady is. He’s helping Brady out of the car, and he's holding onto him so tight. They’re walking - up the stone path, through the door, up the stairs. 

Jimmy helps Brady over to the bed and he leaves for a second to shut the door. Brady’s pulling his legs up to his chin until Jimmy’s pulling them back down. 

“Hands up,” Jimmy is saying, and Brady obliges. Jimmy pulls Brady’s t-shirt over his head and Brady’s cold now, he’s _shivering_. Jimmy shakes his head as he slides Brady’s shoes off and he undoes his belt. Brady mumbles incoherently as he regains stability. 

“What’s that, Bray?” Jimmy asks softly, mostly because he feels like he needs to. Brady rubs his eyes. 

“I-I got it,” Brady repeats, and Jimmy shifts nervously as Brady pushes his jeans down his legs. Jimmy quickly finds a pair of sweats to give him. Brady takes them, grateful, and he struggles, putting them on. Jimmy lets out a breath and leans over to help Brady. Brady feels so fucking helpless, and he really can’t do anything about it. He can’t help the way his body heats up when Jimmy’s hand brushes against the outside of his thigh, he _can’t_. Brady’s climbing into bed, then, and Jimmy helps him, as much as he can. Brady doesn’t want the help, partly, but he’s so delirious that he just let’s it happen. 

When Brady’s underneath the covers, Jimmy starts to walk away, to sleep on the couch as he’d planned. 

“Stay,” is what makes Jimmy stop in his tracks. He turns around, and Brady’s looking at him, with big doe eyes. 

Jimmy nods. “Sure,” he says easily. He steps out of his shoes and he’s climbing into the bed, and Brady’s making room for him. They’re both laying out on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Brady counts his breaths. 

“I’m so sorry, Bray,” Jimmy breaks the silence between them, and he lets the words hang between them. Brady turns onto his side, towards Jimmy. 

“S’okay,” he mumbles, hugging himself. Jimmy shakes his head, before turning towards Brady. Brady can feel the heat radiating off Jimmy, and fuck, he hates how much he needs it. 

“No, it’s really not,” Jimmy notices how Brady has his arms around himself and he puts his hand on his arm, and Brady shivers.

“Cold?” Jimmy asks and Brady merely shrugs because his voice is caught in his throat. Jimmy shifts. 

“Here, come closer,” Jimmy insists, and Brady really can’t say no to that. So he moves closer, but not too close. Jimmy seems to notice. He smiles a little, and it’s warm, like him. 

“I don’t bite, Bray,” Jimmy lets Brady move closer, and then their shoulders are touching and Brady can barely breathe. Brady takes the risk and lays his head on Jimmy’s shoulder, and Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind. He lets Brady deflate, into him almost, and he breathes easily. Brady closes his eyes underneath Jimmy’s gaze. 

“Night, Bray,” Jimmy mumbles softly. Brady falls asleep just like that - leaning into Jimmy, bare skin pressed against him and the blanket pulled over the both of them.

When Brady wakes up, he’s there - Jimmy’s there.

**Author's Note:**

> finally, a longer chapter!!!!
> 
> got my first goal of the season on saturday and it was after brady scored his second of the year, so yes, saturday was a good day. 
> 
> in other news, brady skjei is no longer a healthy scratch and jimmy vesey is as cute as ever. thank you and goodnight.


End file.
